Be Here
by Just A Bay
Summary: They won the war. Why does it feel so much like losing? Peggy and Howard reflect on the Fourth of July. One-shot.


_You Should Be Here_

 _Standing with your arms around me here_

 _Chilling and having a beer_

 _Saying Cheers_

 _Hey all, it's sure been a good year_

 _It's one of those moments that's got your name written all over it_

 _And if I had just one wish_

 _It'd be that you didn't have to miss this_

 _You should be here_

"He should be here." The man beside her sighed and her words, the weary and haggard look unwavering in his haunted eyes.

"We're doing all we can."

"I know." She gave a half-hearted smile at the skeptic look he shot her. "I _do_ know. It's just hard having everyone together again, celebrating the war that he basically ended, all together on his _birthday_ , no less…. I just wish he didn't have to miss this." She finished quietly.

Howard turned his dark eyes back to the scene below them, his demeanor uncharacteristically subdued. A characteristic that was slowly becoming more and more normal, Peggy noticed. He wasn't the same man she'd known in the heart of the war, his genius mind and extensive flight skills becoming less and less diverse and more destructive with a single goal driving him forward.

How could she blame him, though, when the single thought driving him to depression was the same one that kept her lying awake for hours into the night so regularly she had given up trying to sleep?

They remained silent, unwilling to repeat the same circular conversations that had dominated their every interaction since the Red Skull was destroyed, observing the party happening on the beach below them with an unwitting emotional detachment. It was one thing for her to be up here, away from her joyous comrades celebrating the end of the war, but it was another thing for Howard to be away. It was his party, after all.

For lack of anything better to distract herself with, Peggy studied the mix of people on the beach below the balcony. It was a strange combination - but then again, Stark had always thrived on strange combinations. His latest involved bringing together the remainder of the Howling Commandos and throwing them in with an eclectic mixture of politicians, war veterans, and personal friends. She sighed deeply.

When did today start feeling less like the fourth of July and more like Steve's birthday?

If she imagined hard enough, and used the darkness of the evening to her advantage, she could almost see Steve standing in the circle of Howling Commandos, a beer in his hand and a smile on his face, as the waves crashed on the shore in the background. People laughed and talked and there were even a few couples dancing to the wireless Howard had arranged for on the patio. The scene below them, with the bonfire and the people and the water and the muted colors of the night, was just so _Steve_ that it hurt to know that he wasn't down there.

Hence, neither was she.

"He would have loved this." The too familiar tightness in her throat wouldn't allow her to say anything else, and she didn't try. She'd had enough fighting to last her a lifetime, there was no sense in battling tears now.

"Today's his birthday, right?" Howard asked, already knowing the answer. Tonight had Steve written all over it. "I tried to make it something for him, like a… memorial or something. I don't know." He dropped his head into his hands where they rested on the pristine wooden railing. "Some days it feels like the war never ended. This was supposed to be a good year."

They were both unwilling to give voice to what had made the last year far from a good one. Not trusting herself to speak, to agree with him that they had won and that was _good_ , but to question him why it was _Steve_ that had gone down and not been here to celebrate, Peggy let the silence fall over them again, running her hands along the smooth wood. Howard didn't have the answers she wanted to hear.

The sliding door leading to the house slid open behind them and Maria's graceful and poised form stepped out, quietly closing the door behind her. She stopped at the railing where they stood, not saying a word, as if she knew that their private party of two was as much (or maybe more) for grieving as it was for celebrating.

Howard stepped behind her, wrapping his arms around his fiance's waist from the back, holding her between the railing and his tired body as though she were his lifeline to all that was still worth fighting for now that the war was over. The motion brought the tightness back to Peggy's throat; Steve should have his arms around her that way. He should have been here. He shouldn't have had to miss this new world they were trying to build.

Without warning, the night sky above the beach exploded into color, the echo of the blast drowned out by the next explosion immediately following. Fire of all colors, predominantly red, white and blue, showered the beach in impressive temporary flashes of light.

Peggy stood stiffly on Howard's private balcony, slightly in awe (though she wouldn't admit it) at the colorful array the man beside her had pulled together. Although, if he had been thinking of Steve while he planned it, like he had mentioned before, she supposed she shouldn't have been too surprised. Stark never did anything halfway.

The fireworks were met with mixed reactions down on the beach. Most people just gazed up at the dark sky with wide eyes, awe evident on their half-lit faces. Others were stiff, unyielding against the too recent memories of gunfire and grenades, unwilling to let the beautiful colors above them take them back to the horrors behind them.

When the finale ended several minutes later, the sky returned to it's deep black, and the explosions had been banished back into the recesses of their minds, several choruses of "HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY" rang out among the gathered guests. She raised her eyes from the beach to the horizon, inky black and hazy from the leftover smoke, ignoring the silent presence of Howard and Maria to her left.

Her throat closed tight again.

 _Happy birthday, Steve. I wish you didn't have to miss this._


End file.
